Reunion
by shankbeezy
Summary: Mark goes home. Finally. (Canon divergences abound.—Description within.)


Note: Hello! This is my first fic on FFNet in AGES. But it is a good one, a happy one, to start off with. I planned this AU out for sometime, mostly because of my RP storylines. But I needed to finally write this after Mark's (extremely dissatisfying) death last week. The AU really starts with Giselle surviving her encounter with Ryan, albeit still injured. Then, Emma also survives, and Giselle takes care of her at Mark's insistence. Finally, of course, Luke also doesn't die, but is also gravely injured. Mark leaves them to draw Mike away and they go to another safe house once the two almost dead ones are almost recovered. And obviously, Mark survives too.

It's a ton of wishful thinking, I know. But it allows me to write a delightful foursome one day. This will be a series, because i do plan on writing the rest of the AU leading up to this and beyond. Enjoy!

* * *

He's nervous. He didn't think he'd be _nervous_. Excited, definitely. Elated, sure. But _nervous_? What does he have to be nervous about? He's been waiting over a _year_ for this moment. He was fine as he boarded the private plane, as he sat on the trans-Atlantic flight, as he drove along the French Riviera to the house his sister loved so much. But as he looks at it, as he stands at the bottom of the stairs looking up at the bright, beautiful, open home on the beach… he hesitates. He looks different. He _feels_ different. Everything is different now.

He just hopes they're the same. Something should be.

He takes the stairs one at a time. Slow. Taking a deep breath with each step. His ribs still ache, and his shoulder throbs. Even when he carries his bag on his other shoulder. But he wants to be fully aware of this. He doesn't want his mind clouded by meds. Plenty of time for that after this.

He stands at the door for a full minute. He can hear voices inside. Music. Laughter. God… he missed that. Someone yells, someone familiar, followed by more raucous laughter. Feminine laughter. His heart swells.

" _C'mon, Mark. Knock. You earned it._ "

He shakes his head. He doesn't need that voice anymore. He's finished his tasks. He's done everything he wanted to do. He doesn't need the strength he drew from it. He found his own.

He's _home_.

His fist hovers over the door. More laughter. Someone is getting made fun of. He can guess who, and it makes him smile. Really smile. He finally knocks, though it sounds weak and unsure.

The laughter doesn't cease. In fact, the familiar voice gets closer to the door, yelling back at them. His heart hammers as his smile fades. He wasn't ready for this. He should have waited. Should have stayed somewhere else for the night. He's not sure he can handle seeing… seeing _him_ first. He'd hoped for one of the women. A buffer. He wants to see him he's _dying_ to be with him again but he's scared he's—

The door opens.

And the amusement on Luke's face transforms to pure awe.

The twins are silent. Neither moves. It's almost a relief for Mark. At least he's not the only nervous one. But joy also swells in him. The last time he saw his brother, he was still bedridden, healing from his gunshot wounds and begging him not to go. Threatening him weakly. But he's standing on his own now. And looking as unsure as Mark must look. Luke lets out a breath, blinking rapidly.

"Mark?" The question is weak, shaky. Mark remembers saying his brother's name the exact same way once. Was it really _just_ over a year ago?

Naturally, there's only one way for him to respond. "Luke." His voice isn't much stronger than Luke's.

His brother is across the threshold before Mark can even blink. Luke crushes Mark to him. He remembers this. But it's different. Mark's the one in pain. Luke's the one welcoming him home. And this time… it's over. He blinks back his own tears and drops his bag, holding Luke just as tightly. His shoulder burns, screams at him for hugging his brother as tightly as he is. But he doesn't care. Luke buries his face in Mark's neck. Whimpers escape him and Mark holds him tighter. He can be strong for Luke. He already had to do it for himself. Luke's soft mutterings of his name, however, finally break him, and tears start to run over his own cheeks.

They stay like that for what feels like ages, but must only be minutes. Mark almost tugs Luke back in when he finally breaks them apart. But he doesn't go far, and keeps his hands on the younger twin. He's sniffling, but smiling, even as he blinks away more tears.

"Oh, man… look at you," Luke sighs, taking him in. His gaze lingers on Mark's hair, and he smiles wider as he rubs a hand over the dark fuzz. "And your _hair_! Never thought I'd see the day when I could actually see your forehead!"

Mark laughs, weak, but genuine. "Shut up, Luke."

" _Oui, mon cher_ ," comes a soft voice from the hall behind his brother. "It'll grow back. We'll have trouble telling you apart again, don't worry."

Mark glances over Luke's shoulder. Giselle hovers behind him, a small, almost shy smile lighting up her face. Mark's smile grows. He'd missed his sister. Last he saw her, she was scared. Tired. Spending all night and day watching over Luke with him and taking care of him. Guilty that she hadn't been there with them. But she's relaxed now. Bright and happy as she should be. Like she was before Joe Carroll. Mark pulls away from Luke, holding onto his hand as he reaches out for Giselle.

Her smile widens and she steps into his arm, hugging him almost as tightly as Luke had. Mark hides his face in her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of her favorite flowery shampoo. They were the original three Gray children, inseparable for years. And now they're together again. She sighs, her hand brushing down his back.

"I've missed you so much, Mark," she admits, pulling away and giving him her own once over. She must have felt the bandages. She'll ask him later, he's sure. She smiles at Luke, resting a hand on his arm. "Luke's been absolutely insufferable. He's driving me _crazy_."

Mark laughs, looking at his brother as well. "He's always driven you crazy, Giselle. It's nothing new."

"Well, that's true."

"Hey, now…" Luke interjects, pouting at them both.

They all laugh, each trying to keep their tears in and touching each other. It almost doesn't feel real. Mark was so scared… so _sure_ , that this reunion would never happen. Not with how everything was going with Ryan and Theo. But here he is, standing with his twin and his sister. Safe and far from Ryan and Mike. Living the life they should have lived. There's movement behind Luke and Giselle, and Mark cranes his head to catch it.

She's dyed her hair brown. It's longer than he remembers, held back with a hairband. She looks much better than when he'd left her, too. Her injuries had been less extensive than Luke's, but no less critical. Giselle had done wonders with the both of them. Mark looks at his siblings, asking permission, almost. Luke grins proudly and pats him on his uninjured shoulder, while Giselle gives him a knowing smile of her own and steps aside to join his twin.

She steps from the shadows, watching him as closely as he's watched her. There's a hint of a smile, but he can tell she's holding it back, waiting until she's certain of how to feel. He always admired that in her, her ability to hold a poker face when it's not needed. She gives him a once over, and Mark wonders how long they'll all be looking to make sure he's alright. He's not the one who almost died. He clears his throat.

"Hi, Emma."

"Hi, Mark," she echoes, lips twitching up even further. "You look… different."

"Yeah, well," he gestures at her, looking for the words to say. This reunion is robbing him all of the strides he'd made, confidence-wise. "You do too."

She looks down at herself before glancing back at him. "Good different, or bad different?"

"Oh, definitely good. The brown is nice on you." She smiles fully, her face brightening and becoming even more beautiful. He smiles just from the sight. "What about me?"

Emma hums and takes a step back. Her eyes rove over him, head to toe, taking it all in. Mark feels a bit uncomfortable under her gaze. He manages to keep his fidgeting at a minimum. In the end, she smirks at him.

"Jury's out. It'll take some getting used to. You look less like a puppy with that hair."

Mark rubs a hand over it self consciously. "It does, doesn't it? But it'll grow back."

"And quickly, if Luke's hair is any indication," she jokes, leaning in. "Giselle's cut it _twice_ since you left."

Mark turns to look at his twin. He's watching Emma and Mark talk. And he's got Giselle's hand twined with his. He can tell something's different with them. Different with all of them, based simply on the laughter he heard from the porch. But he can figure it all out later. He's got all the time in the world now. He turns back to Emma with a grin.

"Well you know how he is. Always overcompensating."

"Hey!" Luke cuts in. "I thought you being home would _lessen_ how often I get picked on. You're supposed to be with _me_ not them!"

The women laugh, and Giselle appears at his elbow, linking their arms. He's always loved when she's affectionate with him, reminding him that Luke isn't the only twin on her mind.

"Come on in, _mon amour_." She leans up to his ear, whispering with her eyes on Luke and Emma as the twin picks up Mark's bag. "You have no idea how happy I am to not be caught between these two anymore."

"Oh, hush, Giselle," Emma teases, waving them in behind her. "You weren't complaining about it last night."

Mark's eyebrows shoot up and he looks between the two women. Luke, Giselle… _and_ Emma? He's not sure what he was expecting, but he didn't think it was _that_. Though… leave someone alone with Luke and Giselle for too long… Emma wouldn't be the first to fall victim to that. Mark was. Is there still a place for him here with the three of them? "I guess I have some catching up to do."

"You will," Luke assures him, draping his free arm over Mark's shoulder with a grin still in place. Mark doesn't think he'll ever stop smiling now. That's all he's ever wanted for Luke, if he's honest. No reasons for him to be unhappy. "But we've got to catch up with you first. You have to tell us everything."

"He should get some rest," Giselle argues, and part of Mark is grateful for her recognizing it. She really must have felt the bandages. And he did just come off a trans-Atlantic flight. He pats her hand with a small smile.

"Thanks, Giselle. But… I really just want to spend time with you all. To make up for the last year." He peeks around the house. "Is there food though? I'm a bit starving." His appetite recovered once his nerves died off.

Luke drops his bag by the stairs and passes them. "We'll order in. We know a place. That way we can all relax together. Maybe even eat out on the deck. The ocean's beautiful at sunset."

Mark watches Luke head for the phone, watches Emma fold herself into a chair in the large open living room. It's real. He's here, he's home, he's with those he loves, and everyone's happy. Everything he wanted and more. If only mother were here… but he doesn't dwell on it. They'll make their own family. They'll lay low, stay safe. Live out their days the way they should have. Enjoy the time they managed to secure. Live and laugh and love without looking over their shoulders. Free. He looks down at Giselle, and finds her smiling back at him.

"We really are so happy to have you home, Mark. None of this—" she waves at the foyer, at his brother and at Emma. "None of it felt complete without you. I don't know what we would have done if… if anything went wrong."

Mark releases her arm, fully turning to her. His brows draw together. "You saved the both of them Giselle. You kept them together, kept them happy. It sounds like you even brought them together. You would have been fine without me."

She shakes her head, a sad smile on her lips. She touches his jaw with her fingertips, doing her best not to startle him. Wait till she sees how far he's come. "No. We really wouldn't have been." She steps away, gesturing to the large, plush sofa near Emma's chair, and a table with a pitcher of something cold and refreshing. "Go. Sit. Rest. I'm going to make sure your brother doesn't order anything to spite Emma." She starts to go, but turns back, leaning in so only he can hear her. "We'll discuss changing your bandages later, _oui_?"

"Yes, of course," he agrees, smiling. She'll take good care of him. She has for years. Giselle nods and saunters after Luke. As he turns into the living room, he sees them at the counter, Luke bent as his hands rest on the granite and Giselle rubbing his back. At least he'd left Luke in good hands. He sinks into the sofa. He remembers when he and Luke picked it out. His twin wanted to test it, and got his wishes. When he was able to sleep on it comfortably, he knew it was the one. Luke sometimes has simple tastes.

Mark closes his eyes, listens to the life around him. The life he's missed. Giselle trying to distract Luke as he tries to focus on his French, constantly hushing her with amusement in his voice. Emma humming to herself, pouring another glass of whatever they'd made. He's such a mess of emotions. He wants to cry again. He wants to cheer. To dance to sing to take each one of them in his arms and spin them around until they're all dizzy. He wants to sleep but he wants to stay awake and watch all of them, even as they sleep, to make sure it's real. If he never sleeps, the dream would never end.

He opens his eyes again. He jolts slightly at the sight of Emma leaning so close to him. Watching him. He stares at her, and she simply sips at her drink and grins. behind her glass.

"So, Mark… How does it feel to be home?"

He blinks at her. He looks over her at Luke and Giselle in the kitchen. He takes in the warmth of the home. He remembers what it was like before his family was destroyed. He looks forward to what life his new(ish) family will bring him. To the joy. He grins right back at Emma.

"Indescribable."


End file.
